The Bitter Taste of Wine and Defeat
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: In an attempt to have a smaller, higher-society event among acquaintances, Cress hosts a wine tasting. A couple uninvited guests who don't understand the subtleties end up bringing a fair amount of trouble, though. Multi-pairing fic. Involves GrimsleyxShauntal, BiancaxCheren, CilanxBurgundy, and JuniperxFennel.
1. Chapter 1

Originally a challenge with my friend Lyraeon to both write grumpy, drunk Sommeliershipping gone horribly wrong. Turned into an ensemble piece involving four couples and come chapter two they're all fucking. Hers went the same way though so I don't feel bad. Go check out Lyraeon's half of this because she's an awesome writer and deserves more traffic than she gets:

fanfiction s/8398113/1

...

It is common practice at wine tastings to spit the wine out after experiencing the depth of its taste. Generally, any with the slightest of etiquette will do it to keep from getting inebriated, clouding their judgement on subsequent lines and possibly leading them to get a little bit tipsy.

Burgundy was a woman who, some would argue, had issues with the whole 'etiquette' thing.

The c-rank Pokemon Connaisseuse, either by ignorance or attitude, had not spat out a drop of the wine she had been given to taste. Now on the tenth or so wine, there was some wobble in her step and a slur to her voice. Several other tasters had since shied away from interacting with her very much as she grew more grumpy than usual. Amazingly, that had not stopped her from speaking; now to herself, and loudly.

A short distance away, Cilan spat out some white wine into a bucket in the middle of a circle of four he stood in, nodding slowly. "It has a very rich and deep taste," he said. "Burgh, your ability to blend aromas is as pleasing to the palette as your art is to the eye."

"Thank you,"Castelia's gym leader said, spitting out some of the wine he had made himself and brought to the tasting. "It's an amateur's effort, I will admit. It was simply an experiment of inspiration."

Cilan mulled over the lingering taste in his mouth a moment longer. "Quite the contrary, your ability to captivate the eye has followed you into other senses as well. There is a depth, a landscape of flavour to this wine, that makes this far more than a beginner's uncertain offering."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Grimsley said, giving the two gym leaders a nod. "Shauntal could, but we'd be here all night and all she would have accomplished is describing her own dress."

Clicking her tongue, the purple-haired Elite took another sip of the wine. "Sarcasm is how Grimsley tries to appear classy when he doesn't have anything to say that sounds like 'high society'."

Grimsley had a response on the tip of his tongue about the real coping method of not having anything posh to say being to put his head up her skirt. Before he could say it, however, Cress came to the four with a tray carrying glasses of a new wine. The cycle began anew for the tasters, this time sampling a bottle from the Striaton leaders' father's private reserve.

The wine tasting had been a neat idea Cress came up with to have a more formal gathering at the gym between acquaintances and colleagues. It was a way to strip away all of the crowded party atmosphere and bring a more relaxed, intimate group together. It had gone a little bit too far, with Juniper's lab assistant and her boyfriend coming, both underage. Thankfully, Iris, though in town, found the entire wine tasting thing too boring, and the hot-on-her-heels Georgia echoed the sentiment. The most surprising of all guests, though, had been Burgundy. She had simply invited herself in and immediately started calling for wine to taste. To extend the hand of friendship, Cilan insisted she be served and treated as any other guest would.

Burgundy swallowed another glassful. "Divine in texture, with a taste running deep as..." She stopped her loud proclamation a moment, wobbling in her step as she moved toward the table to put the glass down with the others, though she wasn't able to put it down correctly and it fell onto its side and rolled into another. "I like it!" Her head rolled back a little and she leaned on the table for support.

Cilan groaned, watching her make a fool of herself. "Chili, can you please seat our sudden guest so that she doesn't fall down?"

"Afraid to interact with her yourself, I take it," Grimsley smirked, noting how she looked over toward them, eyes seemingly trying to burn a hole through the green-haired gym leader's chest. "I don't blame you, she looks like she would try to kill you given the chance."

The lighting didn't change, but somehow something gleamed off of the lens of Shauntal's glasses, and her lips curled into a smile even before she took the time to smell the wine. "And why is that, exactly?" she said, her voice seeming too sly to usually be hers. Grimsley recognized the shift immediately as the result of her creative spark igniting, but did nothing to stop her. He always enjoyed his night so much more when she was feeling creative.

Cilan explained how she had originally been a challenger to the gym he had defeated, who later became a connoisseur to be better than him. He stopped briefly partway through to sample the wine and give his thoughts on it before continuing, not wanting to leave his brother standing there and waiting with the tray. "I had hoped that in understanding the flavours of wine she may understand the deeper intricacies of tasting Pokemon."

"It is such a shame," Burgh said, placing his long, thin fingers on Cilan's shoulder and leaning into him. "Sometimes there is simply no helping somebody lost to the seas of ignorance, and we must instead seek to find inspiration in those we know to be similarly enlightened."

Cilan shied away a little, turning his head to see Chili pull out a chair and wave toward it welcomingly, only for Burgundy to grumble and turn away from him. "I don't need a chair!" she shouted, emphasizing her point and proving her faith in herself well-founded by nearly tripping over air. "I need him!" She pointed at Cilan with all of her fury, leaning in to the point so much it was wonderful she didn't fall flat on her face.

An excited sound forced its way out of Shauntal's lips, and she put a gloved hand over her mouth, looking around uncertainly, worried someone heard her. Nobody did, everyone's head turned to witness Burgundy continue to embarrass herself. Chili managed to get the grumpy purple-haired drunk into a chair at last, and her head fell flat onto the table with a dull thud that made the glasses clank. After about ten seconds of silence, she very loudly proclaimed, "Ow," in a dull, mostly unfeeling voice.

People hoped that, perhaps, the party could then progress, freed from Burgundy's loudmouthed derailing. Indeed, the participants seemed to all settle down after that, everyone sitting around tables with friends and trying to loosen up a bit. A few attendees, like Fennel, didn't always spit out their wine when they drank, but they were nowhere near the embarrassment levels that Burgundy had flagrantly exhibited. In fact, everyone agreed that being half as humiliating as her would be difficult for anyone present to do in any volume of wine.

"Cheren, come on, kiss me."

Those people were wrong.

Juniper's lab assistant Bianca had also had a fair bit to drink. She and her boyfriend Cheren sat at the table with the professor and her date, Fennel. She leaned forward toward her date, grabbing some of his tie and trying to pull him closer to her with it. "Just one kiss, come on. I bet I taste likes grapes!"

"Did you even have wine?" Cheren said, oddly calm and deadpan for having his tie pulled and struggling to keep away from her face. "Maybe they gave you grape juice and told you it was wine? I wouldn't have trusted you with alcohol, personally."

"Why not?" she whimpered, leaning even closer as her hands clumsily reached further up the tie as though she were climbing a rope, one hand at a time. "I'm not a kid anymore, you said so yourself. Big, grumpy Cheren said I was mature!" She made what was supposed to be a grumpy face, but nobody at the table could quite place what the actual expression was. Unlike the gradually louder and belligerent Burgundy, the already-loud Bianca simply got gigglier and happier, her face growing a very deep shade of red.

Juniper put her hand on her assistant's arm and sighed. "Bianca, please. Let go of his tie."

Although she gave her superior the puppy dog eyes, the blonde nodded and relented, letting go of Cheren's tie and again sitting fully in the chair. Her head still rolled lazily, just on the verge of noticeability, as another batch of wines came. Juniper was on the fence about bringing them, but Cheren convinced her, hoping that it would settle her down and maybe impart a bit of class to her. Both were coming to regret that decision.

As the two teens continued to, respectively, giggle and snark at each other, Fennel placed a hand on Juniper's, her face a deeper shade of red than usual from also sampling the wine the wrong way. "Aurea," she said, making a small laughing sound that sounded far too young for a woman her age. "Why don't we stop babysitting and go back to my house early? Cheren's responsible, he can watch her."

Juniper shook her head. "We have only one set of keys, and Bianca sometimes gets freakishly strong. He won't be able to do anything to stop her." She looked over to them, crossing their arms together as they sipped the wine, Cheren hoping it would placate her and calm her down. "He can hardly say no to her when she's calm."

"Come on," she groaned. "I've missed so much, and we can finally have some alone time." She traced her finger along the exposed forearm slowly, her head tilting as she tried to lean into her girlfriend's neck for a kiss. She whispered, giggling, "I've got a surprise in my dresser that I bet you'll like a lot."

Juniper shook her arm a little and pulled it away from Fennel, not liking that she had to as the gentle finger on her skin reminded her of old times, but she had to. "When we're ready to. I'm not Cheren, I actually can say no."

"I resent that," Cheren muttered, though he said nothing to dispute the claim.

The next table over, Cilan gave his spiel about the current one, giving the same sort of flowery, over-descriptive evaluation as everything else he had tasted that night. Burgh leaned in a little toward him, hanging on his every word and nodding slowly. Shauntal and Grimsley had moved their chairs closer together and leaned against each other, which created enough space for a fifth chair, then occupied by Sabrina. She sat stone-faced, avoiding much of the small talk and sharing her thoughts in brief, terse comments.

"Your mouth is certainly an experienced one," Burgh noted, smiling widely as he took a sip of the wine to drink rather than to simply taste. "I wonder just how much you have tasted to be so skilled at it. Or am I wrong in thinking that only a refined palette that seeks new experiences and tastes could be so insightful?"

"No my friend, you are entirely correct. There is a thrill in finding new tastes that excites my tongue more than the most savoury of dishes. A true connoisseur should never turn down a chance to taste some new creation, for tasting is an art as complex as evaluating."

Grimsley tilted his head toward Shauntal's ear and he whispered, "If you're getting ideas about writing bug boy and Cilan, then I am sleeping in another room tonight. Even I have standards."

Shauntal shook her head furiously, raising the wine glass to her lips to dull the sound and spoke lowly. "They have no chemistry at all, don't worry. If Burgh's flirting keeps up much longer I don't think I'll even want to write or have sex to tonight, but I suspect Cilan will let him down once Burgundy rejoins the living world."

"You're full of surprises, aren't you? Two people dislike each other and get competitive about it, and you immediately think they're going to end up hatefucking drunk on a bed tonight."

Shauntal merely smiled, putting down her glass and turning to Sabrina. "You're rather quiet tonight, is everything okay?"

"With myself, yes. But if you could hear what I could, you would know that the easiest way to avoid any problems is to simply pull away." She looked back toward Burgundy, then to Bianca, then back to Shauntal, and looked at the writer knowingly. "Although, I would have to say that you would want something to happen, and just may have the right ideas."

Shauntal leaned back smugly, blushing a little. "Some of us need psychic powers to tell what people are thinking. All I need is to read a lot of books and compare patterns."

"That doesn't work, love," Grimsley sighed. "You can't just throw complex people with their own thoughts into a story and-"

"Flannery and Surge."

"That was an isola-"

"You seemed pretty speechless when you read what I'd written of you."

"As opposed to now, where I'm speechless because you don't let me finish sentences."

Shauntal wasn't even listening though, head already turned toward Sabrina and a devilish smile on her face. "So, in theory then..."

"No, I will not probe peoples' minds for naughty secrets you can write about." She spoke plainly, as though reading Shauntal's thoughts was a casual, normal thing and the question not at all out of the ordinary. "As a friend, I say this. I fear you would use this power for evil."

Burgundy roused, then, standing up and getting out of her chair with the same sort of grace she had been exhibiting all night, which meant it was a miracle the table did not flip onto its side as she stood. "Cilan!" Again, the over-the-top pointing motion followed. "Spitting out your wine all night, I'm starting to think you can't hold your liquor."

"You can't either," said nearly all of the party attendees virtually in unison.

Ignoring them, she started to walk toward the table he sat at. "I challenge you to a showdown! The most exquisite of tastes shall be victory in beating you in a drinking contest!"

Every time Burgundy had previously challenged Cilan to a contest of any sort, he had been unable to say no. She brought out his competitive side, and he couldn't refuse her in front of an audience. Instead of trying to explain to her why he spat out his wine, he merely waved for Cress. "Bring whatever you can find and some shots."

"She's already drunk," Burgh said. "I don't know that indulging her will do. Instead, perhaps we could attempt to find some manner of inspiration to-"

"Move over!" Burgundy shouted, grabbing Burgh by the shoulder. "Va chier, tu es un cafard!" She pulled him away, swatting his back with the other hand as she took his seat before she could do anything. The artist stood in shock, looking down with indignant rage at her, but the others at the table merely shrugged, and he slunk off, dejected and now looking for someone else to hit on.

"Told you," Shauntal said, leaning her head to rest on Grimsley's shoulder as she drank what wine remained in her glass. The entire wine tasting had been a bust as people started to drink their wine, their grasp on the etiquette not universally known and the result being that eventually nobody cared. "Now they'll get drunk, insult each other, have the most electric kiss of their lives, and in the morning be unable to look each other in the eye."

"Which means it will take them about twelve hours longer than it's taking me," Grimsley muttered.

"Don't worry, what I'm wanting from you tonight won't require eye contact."

Cress came with a tray, a bottle of whiskey, and shot glasses. With the practised grace he would have given customers to their cafe, he began to pour the amber liquid into the glasses, offering them to the two feuding connoisseurs. Knowing neither would go down after one shot, he had brought ten, and began filling them as well, hoping to create a streamlined process where he wouldn't have to grab the glasses, simply refilling the shot glasses as they were placed back in the queue.

Burgundy didn't pay any attention to that, either too drunk or too rude to give him any help. She merely slammed them down on the table and demanded another, sometimes peppering her demands with insults toward the blue-haired waiter; not all of them in his language, either. In fact, she slipped into French more and more with each hit of the whiskey. She let out a satisfied, heavy breath each time she finished a shot, letting the warm, comforting burn tingle in her mouth and throat.

"Merde, the deepest of tastes. Exquisite! I knew that you were not willing to waste something cheap and flat on a lady and palette as deserving as I. So much rich flavour to excite my taste buds." She looked at Cilan, smiling at him as she grew a little closer, though not as much of an invasion of personal space as Burgh had endeavoured. "I didn't know you cared."

"I did not pick the whiskey," Cilan said, putting up a hand in concession. "But I do agree." He took another shot, leaving it vague and Burgundy's smile to widen before he continued. "This whiskey has such a breadth of flavour that excites the mouth." The smile on the purple-haired connaisseuse deflated entirely when she found he had not taken her remarks into consideration at all and he wasn't talking about her.

"Oui, but, come, surely there is something else at this table you would like to sample, no?"

"Called it," Shauntal snickered, pressing the bridge of her glasses up as she found them beginning to slip.

Cilan took one look at Burgundy, understood exactly what she said, and responded by knocking back another shot. "Perhaps there is, but this whiskey is too exquisite not to enjoy to its fullest. Given some time, though, my palette would love to explore other tastes."

For once, Burgundy didn't sound grumpy at all. "I happen to know of a flavour that you might enjoy, mon chéri."

Bianca must have overheard them, because she leaned over to her boyfriend and grabbed at his arm. "Ooh, you're my cherry!" she shouted, pawing at his shoulder like a cat. "Cherry, Cherry! I think I'm going to call you that from now on."

"That's not even what she said," Cheren groaned, free arm reached over so he could hold his head in his hand. "And if you could say it just a little bit louder, I believe there may be some people left in the city that you haven't completely embarrassed us in front of."

"Come on, Cherry, don't be like that. Ooh, is my little Cherry sad now? I know what will make you feel better, if you try that thing I saw Juni do to Fennel last time she-"

"Bianca!" the two scientists shouted at once, shocked at what she was loudly proclaiming to the entire party, who had come to stare at the blonde as she grew harder to ignore than even Burgundy. "You weren't supposed to tell anyone that!"

"We already knew!" came a few voices.

Bianca grabbed Cheren by the arm and started tugging on him. "Okay fine, we don't have to do that. I don't have a strap-on anyway..."

Instead of responding again, Juniper simply threw her hands up in defeat. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"I'll stay here," Fennel cooed, still holding onto her girlfriend's arm. "I don't think I can walk... Mm, but I don't want to let go of you." She leaned toward Aurea as the woman headed for the bathroom, until finally her loose hold on her wrist broke and she slumped over, giggling drunkenly.

Bianca pulled herself into Cheren's lap, straddling the gym leader without any concern for his weak attempts to tell her no. "Hehe, now you're my Chairy!"

The alcohol had started to hit Cilan, who slammed down on the table a bit harder with each shot. He and Burgundy matched each other, and though Burgundy had already been liquored up, he was catching up to her easily in the drunkenness department, apparently not having the constitution the slim connaisseuse amazingly did. He had pulled his chair closer to hers and they leaned in on each other, scowling and trying to stare the other's eyes right out as they knocked back streams of whiskey.

"You are only a C-rank Pokemon Connaisseuse, while I am an A-rank. I have a clear advantage of you, and the taste of inexperience shall also be the bitter taste of defeat!"

"You just called yourself a female connoisseur!" she retorted. "It would appear you are beginning to lose this fight, and I am superior. Perhaps I shall find the taste of victory instead, a far sweeter and richer taste than you shall ever know."

"This doesn't mean they're going to have sex," Grimsley mused. "It means they're stubborn, both progressively growing drunker, and competing. I have trash talked just as much at the poker table."

"You don't know much about relationships, do you?" Shauntal sighed, stealing one of the shots Cress poured and downing it before placing it back and smiling at the waiter. "This is courtship."

"Oh, so this is how broken human beings flirt? By insulting each other, and-no, on second thought, that explains you rather nicely." He chuckled, drumming his fingers slowly against her side as he held her close, the other hand gently pressing on her chin so she faced toward him and fell into a soft kiss.

Sabrina rose from the table and walked off to find some sane, single people to interact with.

"It won't stay down!"

"Then perhaps you should stop playing with it and try to calm yourself. There is bread on the table, have some."

Bianca was still in Cheren's lap, facing toward him and, inadvertently, pressing her neck and breasts against his face as she leaned on him hard, too tipsy to support her own weight. She struggled with the stubborn locks of black hair on his head that kept springing upward, her fingers trying to rub it down, spread it through other hair, push on it, anything to conquer the unconquerable. "Why is your hair so silly, Chairy? Oh, maybe it's a boy thing and I have to treat it like your-"

"We're leaving," Juniper said hurriedly, rushing back to the table. "Bianca, get off of him, we're going back to Fennel's apartment. Come now, home. There's a big, warm blanket for you two, and plenty of hair products for you to use on him."

"Yay, it'll be a sleepover!" she slurred, climbing out of her boyfriend's lap only to fall flat onto her face on the carpeted floor. "Can I do your hair too, Fennel? It's really long and I want to braid it."

Fennel shook her head. "Sorry, but Aurea and I need to be awake really early tomorrow. We have to go right to bed when we get home."

"Oh, okay. That's alright, Chairy and I can just have sex then."

Cheren groaned, adjusting his tie. "You're not exactly the most subtle person even when you're sober, but this is a new low." He grabbed his coat off the chair behind him and headed over to Cress. "I'm very sorry about Bianca."

"It's okay," he sighed. "At least I won't have to spend the night watching after her." He made note of the two connoisseurs still drinking, both wobbling in their seats and leaning impotently against each other, faces smooshed together. "I did hope to be able to talk to you; maybe next time you're in town?"

Cheren nodded. "I'd like that. Bye, Cress."

"Goodbye, Cheren."

"Do you know how we can make the whiskey even better?" Burgundy crooned drunkenly, placing her hand on his thigh. "Because if you're a true sommelier, then you would not dare turn down a new spin on a now dull and experienced flavour."

"I cannot turn a challenge down," he agreed, putting an arm on her shoulder. "What did you have in mind to deepen the taste?"

With a big smile, Burgundy grabbed the shot, emptying it into her mouth, and then pressed her open mouth sloppily to his. They both lazily reached to try and grasp each others' heads and missed their marks, instead resting their arms on the other's shoulder as they kissed. It was sloppy and messy and a couple drips of good alcohol went to waste in dripping down chins, but both seemed to grow excited by it.

Shauntal tugged at Grimsley's collars excitedly, grabbing another shot and downing it. "We need to go back, right now. There's been so much tonight I can use, the ideas are spinning frantically in my head and the wheel will never stop until I have seen these committed to text!" She stood up excitedly, a bit of a wobble in her step as the alcohol began to hit her, though it was more from her high heels than being legitimately drunk. "Thank you very much Cress, we have enjoyed ourselves greatly, but inspiration calls!"

Grimsley rolled his eyes and followed, waving goodbye to the couple as they scurried off quickly, leaving Cress at the table with the two sloppily making out rivals.

"Exquisite!" Cilan proclaimed when they finally pulled apart. "The whiskey is accentuated by your kiss, given new life and a surge of passion that thrills the palette in most savoury of ways."

"And oh, whether it is your lust or the alcohol that makes me mouth burn... I must taste you pure to know! Please, can we abandon this contest and decide the winner in a more skillful taste-off?"

Cilan nodded. "Yes. There are so many flavours to you left to be explored. To my bedroom!" Unlike the others who had at least thanked Cress, Cilan left his brother standing there as though he didn't even realize that he was.

But he was, and still held the whiskey. The rest of the party had cleared out as the various train wrecks reached their peak, until Cress sighed, sitting at the table and pouring himself some whiskey to drown his frustrations. His attempt at a high society gathering had not gone too well, ruined by drunk people who were seemingly using it only as a prelude to sex, or who could not appreciate the subtleties of a wine tasting. All of that effort for disaster. Even his own brother had lost himself to the mayhem and had dragged the boisterous women who barged uninvited into the party up to his bedroom. It meant that, above all of the other terrible things gone wrong that night, he would have to try and sleep to the sound of his brother and a woman, both drunk and having what would probably be grumpy, loud sex.

Burgh slit into the seat beside Cress and smiled. "If it's any consolation, my friend, I certainly enjoyed the party."


	2. Chapter 2

Juniper pushed open the door, grumbling as she stepped in. Holding her assistant by the wrist and with her lover hanging off the other, getting through the door and into Fennel's apartment was not the easiest task. She avoided mishap though, and let go of her drunk, blond lab aide. "She's your responsibility now, try not to say yes to everything she asks for." She started to pull Fennel into the main bedroom, but stopped. "And please, try to keep the TV down, we have a busy day tomorrow and Fennel needs to sleep."

"Don't worry, we won't be watching TV," Bianca giggled, leaning against her boyfriend, who hadn't had anything to drink and merely stood, blushing and frustrated. "Come on Chairy, Fennel's guest bed is so much nicer than yours!"

The brunette shuddered a little at the thought of her assistant, whom she had grown to see as something between a daughter and a little sister, being sexually active, but that soon ebbed as she felt Fennel nuzzling her shoulder. It was reassuring to again feel her body close against hers, and she could hardly bring herself to worry very much. Even the smell of wine on the scientist's breath did nothing to ruin the moment brewing in her mind.

"Let's forget about them and go catch up," she said, leading Fennel to the master bedroom of her own house. The party may not have gone well, especially with several remarks Bianca let out, but this was going to be the redeeming factor of the night; frantic, heavy, "I missed you" sex. She kicked off fher sneakers as they reached the door, moving as swiftly as she thought Fennel reliably could, before jumping on to the bed like they were half their ages, laughing and grabbing at each other.

Fennel quickly settled on top, being the lighter of the two, running her hands up Aurea's shirt as her lips assaulted the bared neck. "It's been so long," she said heavily. "I know you have a new toy, but maybe we shouldn't bring it out tonight. We should save it, and simply enjoy old times right now."

Running her fingers through all the mess of lilac hair cascading down the slim researcher's back, she nodded. "I agree; I don't know if you have enough in this house to lube it up for a second go."

"Lube!" Fennel shouted, pulling away just as she had started to touch Juniper's bountiful breasts through her bra. "We can't let those kids... It would be irresponsible!" She leaned over to the bed toward to the end table, clumsily catching the handle to the drawer and pulling it out. Several sex toys lay in there amidst a bed of lube packets and condoms. "I'll be right back!"

She stumbled on her way out of the room, leaving a flaberghasted Juniper groaning in frustration. Fennel had just far enough to leave her very frustrated by what had just occured, and she was worried it was going to set the stage for the rest of the night.

Still unable to walk right, Fennel nearly faceplanted when she opened the guest bedroom door. Cheren sat on the bed, Bianca in his lap, arms raised as she struggled to get the white blouse off, leaving the black tank top beneath as her top layer. Their lips were furiously locked together, Cheren's working their way up her back beneath her shirt, exposing plenty of skin as it grew closer to her bra clasp.

"Practice safe sex!" Fennel shouted jovially, tossing the condoms and lube at the two liplocked teens, then stumbled backwards out of the room, not caring that they both ignored her in favour of sucking face.

Laughing at how silly she had been but standing up a little taller out of pride for being a good person, Fennel walked back into the room to find Juniper still lying on the bed, giving her an upset look. Perhaps not going for some bondage was a bad idea after all. "You shouldn't have enabled them like that."

"They were already making out and undressing, Juni," she said, her voice slipping into tones that sounded more like a teenager whining to an adult. "It's better than if she gets pregnant, you know that."

"You could have put your foot down and told them it wasn't happening."

"I think you're jealous," she teased in a song-songey voice, tapping Juniper's finger with her nose as she drunkenly spread out atop her. "You're just upset I stopped feeling you up to go help them out, because you want me all to yourself. "Well don't worry, no more distractions, I promise. We're going to make up for all that lost time."

She resumed her oral assault on Juniper's neck, hands moving up along her abdomen faster, having already travelled that ground, until they grabbed her breasts through the lacey green bra she wore beneath it. Despite being a bit tipsy, her grip was firm and the motion of her fingers was steady. She had done it so many times over so many years that, in the act, she was virtually unflappable, no substance in the world able to lessen her perfected motions.

Juniper's hands unclapsed the lab coat as it dangled from the body hovering above her, hands reaching down to press against her form, tracing down her slight curves. They both knew each others' bodies as well as they knew their own, and the familiar silhouettes traced by their fingers brought a sense of relief to them, filling something they had been lacking in their time apart, which recent years ensured seemed longer with each reunion. The wine tasting was an excuse for a vacation so that Juniper could visit Fennel, nothing more. Even the fact she would have to bring Bianca, whose own lover had been cleared for some days off, could not dampen her spirits.

The routine was always so practised at first, styled like an improvised piece of music; they would start and end the same way, but what lay in the middle was a new experience every time. Fennel was supposed to start working her way down, trailing kisses down Aurea's belly until she reached the waist of her skirt. Instead of following the trail, however, Fennel lay flat atop Juniper and sighed. "I've missed you so much, Juni."

"I've missed y ou too," the professor replied awkwardly. "A-are you forgetting about something?"

"No, but. You're so warm... And soft." She giggled lightly and pet the smooth brown hair. "I want to just cuddle instead. Let's snuggle all night!"

Juniper grumbled and shook her head. "What? No, we haven't seen each other since Christmas, what are you doing?"

"I'm snuggling my sexy science girlfriend!" Fennel exclaimed, hugging Juniper tightly and burying her head in Junper's breasts, still completely covered. It wasn't even sexually either, which did not make Aurea any happier.

Groaning, she tried to push Fennel off. "Come on, I even went a week without masturbating so this would be extra sweet, don't do this to me."

"Aw, fine, silly. But, you have to guess the magic word."

She wasn't up or games, but she knew that Fennel was past the point where reasoning would do anything, and the last thing she needed to put a damper on their weekend together was going against her consent when she was drunk "Is it please?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Funkytown?"

"No silly, it's not our safe word!"

"Is it a word I have any chance of guessing before the sun comes up?"

"Maybe."

Juniper had had enough. She threw all of her weight onto one shoulder, pushing against Fennel so that they rolled and she lay on top. Before the lilac-haired researcher could complain at all, lips were on hers and she merely sank into the bed with a happy sigh. Her hands opened the lab coat and rubbed the small breasts through the pink top, and she loved the way Fennel twitched a little at the attention. It was so enjoyable a sight that she brought a leg up, rubbing her thigh between the blushing woman's legs, making her writhe even more.

Now she was starting to enjoy herself. Watching Fennel's lips part and her body try to raise off of the bed, failing as it was met by the resistant of the taller and heavier woman, was what Juniper had been looking forward to. Hot breath smelling of alcohol and grapes dominated her sense of smell and she hoped dearly that it was enough for her to get drunk off of as well, deepening the kiss. This was familiarity, this was perfection, this was what she ached for on lonely nights. To have Fennel beneath her, locking lips and merely enjoying the warmth and touch of each other. It was all they would never need.

"Oh, Chairy, that feels so good!"

Juniper stopped dead in her tracks, eyes looking away from the face of her girlfriend, whose glasses had become loose and no longer sat properly on the bridge of her nose, to stare at the wall. Bianca's cry had shaken her and, potentially, killed the mood entirely. She rolled off of Fennel and groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. "We should have slept on the lab in your couch if we're going to be hearing this all night." She turned to face Fennel, whose cheeks were red and breath was rapid.

Without a word, Fennel slithered down the bed, grabbing at the waist of Juniper's skirt, digging her fingers into the band of her panties and pulling them both down at once. She exposed the professor's trimmed pussy, just wet enough to dimly shine against the light coming from above them. Her tongue dragged against her lips and she moaned as her head pitched forward. She took a long lick up the scientist's folds, planting a big, wet kiss on the sensitive clit at the end of the path. One hand grabbed at Aurea's thigh and the other pressing against her opening, a finger beginning to creep its way into her.

Juniper and fingers had a long history'; it was not any sort of easy to have a long-distance girlfriend she could rarely see. Her own fingers lacked any of the magic, though, that Fennel's even slightest of touches could inspire. They knew her insides better than her own did, and it took only ten seconds for Juniper to moan and try to push her hips up off the bed and against her girfriend's face and was held down though, but a surprisingly firm push from the small, tipsy woman as she kept going. Or maybe she wasn't pushing very hard at all, Fennel's touch so good to her that her body couldn't bring itself to dictate anything.

Their sex life was not always vanilla; rather far from it, in fact. The presence of various toys and bondage implements were the norm for them, as was Fennel whimpering things like 'mistress'. Their relationship was always loving, though, sincere and deep, truer than anything else they knew. Sometimes the whips and strap-ons were best left untouched as they simply enjoyed the feelings of each others' fingers and lips and vaginas, the simplest of things made whole and enjoyable by being together. There was something about how Fennel's fingers twisted inside of her as the tongue lovingly caressed her labia that wouldn't be improved with spanking.

Juniper parted her legs wide, biting down on her lower lip as she watched Fennel go to work, looking back up at her with a radiant smile and loving eyes. She wished she could do more, wished she could reached Fennel's own vagina and make her feel half as elated as she was in that instant. If anything, that she was so selflessly down there, taking delight simply in having her tongue and fingers danced on, was worth more than merely equal attention. She would have to lavish Fennel with her tongue, make her writhe endlessly in nirvana and feel like she was worth every second of worship. In that instant, it was all that seemed fair.

"More," she moaned, fingers caressing the silken lilac hair that flowed down the gentle curve of Fennel's back. She loved feeling it so much that she had spent a great while trying to find something even a tenth as enjoyable to run her fingers through so that her solitary lab life would not be nearly as empty. She never did, however; only Fennel's hair itself was good enough for her.

Lightheadness played a role in Fennel's determination. The wine had not struck her like it had Bianca-although in the past she had been that bad-but it had left her floating half an inch off the ground and giggly. Somehow, the airiness and lack of seriousness in her motions drove her to perform better, every errant twitch and sound Aurea made in response being a thousand times sweeter than if she were sober.

She kept going, licking and sucking and kissing every inch of Aurea's privates, plunging three fingers into her quickly. Juniper was growing wetter, apparently having told the truth about not masturbating for a week and accelerating far quicker than normal. Eagerly, Fennel licked up every stray drop; regardless of how it tasted, it was to her the sweetest, most desired taste in the world after seasons apart. It meant that, once again, she was with her Juni, that they were together and she had the privelege of making her feel great. What more could she asked for?

Even the increasingly loud sounds the next room over of Cheren and Bianca having sex could not disturb Juniper enough to make her stop things. She was grinding her hips against Fennel's tongue and fingers, bucking frantically. Her shoulders were lifting off the bed and her head rocked back and forth.. Everything out of her lips was a moan or declaration of love and how good she felt, all of it so sweet and perfect that she could hardly contain herself. Fennel was hitting every button with perfect timing and she was quickly losing herself in the frantic need for release.

"Deeper, faster, harder," she panted as Fennel's long fingers went knuckle-deep in her and every motion brushed against her g-spot hard. She could feel the orgasm coming, and nothing in the world could possibly ruin the moment.

"That wasn't supposed to go in there! Hehe, whoops. Oh well, keep going, Chairy!"

Even that.

So drunk on love, even the thought of Bianca being sexually active in the next room and apparently exploring anal sex could not ruin the all-encompassing fire burning in her. She needed release, needed to tremble in her girlfriend's arms and feel loved in a way that she could not find by herself. "Please Fennel," she said with the sort of desperation she would never have shown if they were all dressed up and under a tonne of pretense. It was only them; no toys, no games, just them. Them and love.

"Stop calling me Chairy!"

And two drunk teenagers next door. But they were outside the bubble that Juniper had finally managed to create.

When Juniper's orgasm came, it was sudden, loud, and hit her like a truck. Her entire body tensed, lifting off the bed as her insides ignited and nerves sparked madly. Fennel kept licking and pumping her fingers in, and every time she did it felt a thousand times more intense, her sensitive nerves tingling almost to the point of overstimulation before she slumped down weakly onto the bed.

Before she knew what was happening, Fennel was already lying beside her, leaning her head against her shoulder and cooing softly. "Did you like it? I hope you did, Juni, it was all for you."

"I loved it," she panted. "Give me a second, and I'll give you your turn."

"No, this one was on me. All I want to do with you right now is hold you close and get some sleep."

"What about those two?"

"Give them money for a date or something, and we can enjoy our afternoon."

With that settled, the two scientists wrapped their arms around each other, and though both mostly clothed, took no efforts to change as they simply pulled a blanket over them and drifted off into a wonderful, tired sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Cheren wanted to say that Bianca was more trouble than she was worth. Especially after her drunk antics at the wine tasting; his attempts to introduce her to something more reserved and intelligent had gone horribly awry. She leaned on him, limp and giggling as he half-carried her into Fennel's bed. As she slid off his shoulder and onto the bed, smiling up at him with her glasses crooked and hat falling off her head, he decided; no, she was worth all the trouble in the world.

She grabbed at the bottom of his tie, trying to pull him down on top of her, making kissy faces she probably thought were cute in her drunk state. They weren't particularly, but the biased gym leader saw them as cute if only because it was her face making them. She induced feelings in him that would have made him feel sick if they were for anyone else. Successful in pulling him down, she locked lips, giggling drunkenly into their kiss as his body followed, pressing against hers. "I knew you wanted to kiss me, Chairy."

"Stop calling me that," he muttered, losing himself in her kiss. He held her cheek tightly, adjusting her glasses a little bit as her eyes closed.

It wasn't a conscious effort so much as a reflexive one, but she pushed against him until they rolled and she was atop him. That was how it went at all times; she was on him. Cheren was always the submissive partner, while the bursting-with-energy Bianca topped by simple virtue of not being able to stay still. He could lie back and scowl while she'd do all the work with a huge smile on her face, which so completely summed up their relationship. She dragged him by the wrist wherever she wanted and called all the shots because he'd rather stand there and make sarcastic remarks.

She pulled him up, holding his arm and his tie until they sat upright, her in his lap, their lips never breaking away for an instant. "Hehe, now you really are my chairy again," she giggled into his mouth, not letting him stop for a second to tell her how much that kept killing the moment. That is, if it was possible for her to. He doubted very much if anything she did could ruin his desire for her so long as she kept beaming at him as she did it. They were going to have sex, and no words could crush his libido.

He helped her get her jacket off, tossing it aside. It didn't take long to, but he had seen her undress quicker, knew the wine was slowing her down, knew that it was only uphill from there. She was a clumsy girl, doing everything as fast as she could and prone to head-on collisions with just about anything. Adding alcohol to things was not going to make it any easier on either of them.

He started to get her white blouse off next, revealing the black tank top that clung nicely to her body. It slowly came up, inching further with every kiss, both knowing that they would have to break it at some point to actually get it over her shoulders. Neither wanted to be the one to actually break the kiss, Bianca too giggly and cuddly, and Cheren admittedly too lovestruck by her. It made him sick, but in the way that eating too much cake made him sick. It was the good kind of sick that he'd merely deal with because everything before that feeling was well worth it.

Eventually she fell back clumsily, her head rocking back and forth as she laughed excitedly. Even slurred, her sweet laughter was infectious and brought a smile and shade of red to Cheren's face as he tugged the shirt up and over her face. Her arms flailed around a little bit and she said, "I'll finish it!" before leaning back and nearly hurting his face from how hard she pushed back into his kiss.

The door swung open loudly, and Cheren could see Fennel standing in the doorway, side pressed to the frame for stability. "Practice safe sex!" she shouted, laughing herself silly as she tossed a handful of condoms and lube packs at them. They bounced impotently off of Bianca, and neither of them stopped kissing to acknowledge her as she slunk back to her own room. Cheren knew better than to say anything, letting her go without a word lest she stick around and try to ruin anything. Or Bianca try to ruin anything. Either were capable, in their inebriated states, of bringing on terrible things that weren't him getting laid.

He usually didn't have sex on the mind so fiercely. Even back in the day when hormones ran wild and his best friends were the adorable Bianca and the confidently sexy White, sex didn't solely occupy his thoughts. With Bianca giggling in his lap, pressing into him so hard and slowly losing more and more clothing, though, he couldn't help himself. Nothing mattered inside that moment except for making love to her. Not only for the act of release, to feel her close against him and trembling, but because in the morning he would wake up and see her smiling, face framed in her golden bangs and beaming.

His hands started to work up her sides, tank top bunching up as he took care to feel along her skin. She was so soft and warm, every touch making her whimper a little as she pushed harder against him. Her tongue was in his mouth and moving so gracelessly it was a new record even for her. It was a messy, brute-force kiss, and he expected no less from her with how she was acting. Subtlety wasn't exactly her strength to begin with, and she was only clumsier now.

"Your hands are so delicate," she giggled as he unclasped her bra and started working it off of her. It wasn't easy to get her cooperating so that he could do it without having to get her tank top off to do it, which slowed down the process greatly. After longer than he should have even kept hard for, he managed to get it off and tossed it aside. Her shirt was pushed up, her round breasts now held by his hands and worked over as they kissed harder. She was leaning so hard against him that he fell back and she lay atop him again, legs pressing hard into his sides. She could feel his erection against her thigh and, for all the hell it must have endured being restrained in his tight pants, the added pressure did it no favours.

"I missed you," he said heavily, sincere in his tone and legitimately trying for a romantic mood to their reunion.

In response, she only giggled and pecked at his neck a little. "I missed you too, Chairy!" Again, that made her laugh uncontrollably. "And I missed little Chairy too!"

It was unlike her to be so free about everything, usually being at least slightly subtle and embarrassed by it. Wine had robbed her of that censor though, leading to several remarks she would never have made otherwise, and leaving her very playful. She started to kiss down further, fingers clumsily attempting to undo the buttons down his shirt. She managed, but drew it out with repeated mistakes, as he had come to expect. He loosed his tie himself, thinking that if it was off she couldn't pull on it again and potentially choke him.

Eventually, his shirt was undone and hanging loosely off his sides, and she was at his pants. This, she thankfully handled quickly, getting his pants off in only a few seconds longer than usual. He appreciated that. His boxers went next, though she stopped with them about halfway down his knees, as the sight of his rigid penis made her giggle and stop to poke at it. "Little Chairy!"

Despite not thinking he had any size issues and chalking it up to her being silly and drunk, he still did not appreciate it very much. "Stop calling me Chairy," he said again, trying to sound stern, though his voice trembled a little as her delicate hand wrapped around the base, a feeling too longed-for and familiar to pretend he was unfazed by. He bit down on a groan and shut his eyes tightly. "I missed this."

"I missed it too!" She started to pump slowly, leaning in close to look over it like she had never seen a penis before. Her hot, wet breath rushing against it made him want to jerk his hips or beg her for something, but he restrained himself. "It's been a really long time." She slurred before leaning forward and giving his tip a loud, wet kiss.

Cheren couldn't bite down the groan this time, and his shoulders lifted off the bed a little bit. It had been so long since they had last had the chance to do this, and it felt even sweeter because of the distance. Maybe the wine had made its last interference in his sex life for the night, and it could get better from there.

Indeed, the way her mouth closed around his head and began to sink down felt like the rest of the night's mishaps had been a bad dream. Her breath may have smelled like wine but her mouth was still able to do all the right things to him. Seeing her green eyes sparkle up at him from beneath her glasses only sweetened the moment, made him wish her lips weren't too busy to smile. In time with her hand she gave him the sort of blowjob he had dreamt about on lonely nights, and everything felt so right, filling something in him that months apart had left him devoid of.

"You're so good at this," he said, legitimately unable to give her a sarcastic remark as his mind travelled into such wonderful places. He couldn't wait to do more with her again; to be buried inside her as she buried her head into his neck or to surprise her in the morning when she woke to find his head buried between her legs. So many things that he had come up with and fantasized about and could finally share with her. His release at the fantasies was one thing, but to share them with the girl he loved would have been the far sweeter thing.

Deeper she went, the hand moving further down his shaft and using fewer fingers as it ran out of room. Everything seemed fine now; she was able to move her head with a steady rhythm and coordinate everything so perfectly. She had finally-

She pulled up, wiping some saliva from the side of her mouth and laughing. It was a rich, heavy laugh, the sort that could only be brought on by a masterful joke, or drunkenness. She stopped, letting go of him and resting her head on his thigh, looking at his shaft. "Hehe, it looks so big from this angle."

"What's so funny?" he asked, keeping his tone calm even though she hadn't exactly leave him in the highest of spirits with that one. The fact she had stopped just as he was really coming to enjoy himself didn't help.

"Chairy!" she shouted, laughing uncontrollably. "Burgundy doesn't have a Chairy, I do!"

Cheren was started to get frustrated with her. "Why don't we move on from here? A-are you still on the pill?"

She shook her head. "I-I don't think so. Maybe."

He sighed, pointing to beside her where all the condoms and lube Fennel tossed at them lay. "Then why don't you put one on me?"

"Okay!" she said happily, reaching over to grab one and trying to open it. Immediately, she messed it up, trying to tear the packet from the middle and getting visibly frustrated. Cheren cursed at himself; even when struggling with something she looked adorable to him. Taking it from her, he easily opened the packet and handed it back to her. She thanked him, put it in her mouth, and leaned toward, intent on rolling it down his shaft with her tongue. Which would have been fine if she hadn't bit down hard on the tip first.

Cheren groaned, grabbing another, tearing it open, and handing it to her. "If you bite it, holes form and that defeats the purpose of not risking you getting pregnant. Try again."

She let out an unhappy little sound, the fact he made her even kind of sad killing him a little on the inside, but she took it, this time trying with her hand. She missed the mark, not even coming close as the condom pressed against his thigh. She laughed a little bit. "Gee Cheren, I didn't know you'd gotten so big!"

He understood the joke but wasn't very amused by any of it. Apparently, the successful blowjob had been a one-in-a-million miracle shot. She tried again, with less of a screw-up but still completely wrong. He was still hard, as even drunk and acting silly watching her be around his crotch was a thrill in its own right. When her head dipped a little and her tongue pressed to the part where his shaft ended and met his balls his hips jerked a little bit. "M-maybe I should put on the condom," he said, nothing that she was now starting to finger it and giggle, losing track of what she was even supposed to do. Balloon animals would be next and he didn't want to see if his arousal had limits after all.

Wasting no time, he grabbed another condom, unwrapped it, and slowly rolled it down his shaft. It wasn't the sexy or playful method of getting it on that his girlfriend had gone for to please him, but it got things done fine, and Cheren was a practical man above all else. To help things along, he also grabbed one of the packets of lube and tore it open, figuring it couldn't hurt.

"Ooh, Chairy," she sang, and when he looked over, his jaw dropped. She was on all fours, round ass bared and high in the air, wiggling enticingly. Her slit was practically dripping wet, and the motion she made was slow, hypnotic, and invited. At the sight of it, Cheren spurted the lube into his hand and stroked furiously with the hand, damn-near ready to just masturbate to the sight of it to save the problems sure to come. He restrained himself though, and knelt behind her, placing a hand on her back as the other guided his tip to her pussy.

"You know," she slurred, "I don't tell anyone that I'm always on top. I know you don't like everyone knowing or something about masculinity. I'm glad we're both okay with it but, come on Chairy, be a man tonight." She let out a long, drawn-out cooing sound and wiggled her ass for him again. "I bet you'll have fun!"

"Stop calling me Chairy," he muttered again and slipped into her. Between the lube and how already wet she was, it was no problem at all to bury himself into her with one motion and begin thrusting right away. Slow motions, building up to something better, to be sure. He liked going slow, working his way up and creating something. Not like Bianca, who merely liked bouncing in his lap as quickly as possible. That was why she ended up calling the shots most of the time.

Being inside of her was the sweetest feeling yet. He leaned forward, hands on her hips as he pushed to the hilt inside of her every time. She writhed and moaned beneath him, and even the fact she was saying 'Chairy' instead of 'Cheren' couldn't bring him down. Bianca was so tight and hot and slick and familiar that nothing could ruin it. He loved her, and though he snarked at everything she did, he could at least show her how much in how he made love to her. Everything he did, every errant brush of his fingers burst with passion.

Watching her writhe beneath him and tremble at his touch was something he had ached for. It wasn't simply that, by himself, he had only his hand and a bottle of lube. It was that she wasn't there. There was a physical side to it, but it was far outweighed by the emotional intensity of their love. Every moment they spent together holding hands was infinitely more fulfilling than any night jacking off. She completed him, even if he didn't like to admit it very much.

She started to rock back and forth along with his motions, moaning louder than necessary but sounding too sweet and elated for him to tell her to quiet down. Her movement was sloppy and without reason much of the time, but watching her shift in front of him and her cute butt wiggle as it did made it well worth the time for Cheren to watch. She was thrilling every sense and everything finally fell into some sort of perfect.

Then, she pushed forward too much and fell flat on her face, giggling into the bed. "I think I drank a little too much wine!"

Frustration continued to mount as he looked down at her, groaning. Somehow she was getting progressively worse as the night dragged on instead of better. That wasn't supposed to be how alcohol worked. "You certainly did. Can you keep going? If you need to stop, it's fine."

"No! I can still go!" She pushed herself back up and pressed her rear against him, but came in too low and, with another case of one-in-a-million aim, his tip sank an inch into her ass. "That wasn't supposed to go in there! Hehe, whoops. Oh well, keep going, Chairy!"

It was a miracle, he thought in retrospect, that he had put on that lube. Anal was not something they did often, and even right off the bat he could feel that they had dodged a bullet with that. Before he could decide what to do she pushed further back against him, and with all the hot tightness around him he hardly had much of a choice. Slowly he pushed forward, again grabbing her hips as he sank more into her ass. She twisted and moaned in front of him, and with her tone it would have been the hottest thing it ever heard had she not been saying, "Chairy, Chairy," repeatedly.

"Stop calling me that," he said for the umpteenth time, beginning to build up a good rhythm with her. He reached down with one of the hands, brushing it along her slick folds and paying attention to her clit. He knew she stood no chance of being able to do it herself, and didn't want to leave her wanting, no matter how bad she got. If nothing else, he could at least try and enjoy the sex they were having, looking at it outside the context of every other time when it hadn't been clumsy and so frequently derailed. That was a good way to go about it.

She started grabbing at fistfuls of bedsheets clumsily, giggling. She pushed back against him with quick, desperate need, lips constantly formed in a circle as she made slow, slurred sounds that were still too adorable not to affect a smile from the black-haired teen. He had to admit, bad nickname aside, she was painfully cute even when totally wasted. He didn't question why he loved her because it was all right there, flaws included. It didn't test his love or make him second-guess anything. When he had a smartass remark for everything and constantly scowled his way through things pretending not to care, she could chuckle and make him smile like the biggest idiot of them all.

Slowly, the sound of their motions rose above her adorable little moans and coos, and Cheren's fingers pressed harder into her skin. His hand was soaked but he didn't care, simply because every time he touched her the right way she would shiver and her back would arch upward. It was the sweetest of sights for him, and it brought him even closer to the edge for it.

Then, just as predictably as the first two times she had done it, Bianca faltered. She fell flat forward again in a giggle fit, this time rolling onto her back and clutching at her stomach. "Fennel is the safe sex fairy!" she howled.

Cheren couldn't even think of a response. Did he call her slow to the take? Legitimately point out that it had occurred long enough ago that he was worried about what was happening to her? Just put a blanket over her and make some coffee?

Instead, he got mad. Not quite 'scream and throw things' mad, but it was still impressive for him. He grabbed another condom packet from the bed, took off the one had used, which was no longer really safe to put in her, and slipped another on. Instead of lubing up, noting how wet she was, he simply grabbed her legs and dragged her over to him. She was still giggling, now half-lying off the bed and wiggling her hips for him to keep fucking her.

"C'mon Chairy!"

He pushed forward, burying his cock into her with one motion. "Stop calling me Chairy!" This time, she listened.

"Oh, Cheren!" she moaned as if she had never used the nickname before. She tried to lift her arm up as it dangled loosely off to the side but she couldn't. One leg followed, the other wrapping around his legs as he leaned in to her. There was nothing soft or slow-building about his motions. Just lots of thrusting and heavy, fast motions. For the first time, he wasn't simply having sex with Bianca; he was fucking Bianca.

His hands pulled her tank top back up over her breasts and grabbed them forcefully, working them over with the same ferocity he was thrusting into her with. He looked down at her, head dangling from the bed, blond locks hanging downward toward the floor, and every time he buried himself to the hilt in her they shook. He had never taken her so hard, and perhaps from the alcohol, perhaps from the shock, she couldn't muster a reaction to it exact to moan and writhe beneath him. She enjoyed how they had sex as much as he did, but there was this fire in his eyes, something animalistic and intense, that enraptured her.

Getting fucked into the mattress by a pissed-off Cheren, the drunk blonde simply lay there, letting him pound into her slick pussy and squeeze her breasts. Each push shook her, and it didn't take long for her glasses to come loose . For once, neither made any attempt to fix them, and before long they fell to the carpeted floor and made no sound. Or maybe it did, and the two lovers were just too loud for the sound to be heard.

Release was swift and a long time coming. Bianca was first, her giggling and moaning stretched out into one sound, crying his name-his real name-as her body trembled against him. Her eyes shut tightly and she grew even tighter around him, her vagina eager to bring him to release as well. He wasn't very far off, and with one mighty final thrust he came, filling the condom with his seed.

Before any tiredness could set in as it sometimes did in the afterglow, Cheren grabbed her, pulling her up and falling back, both of them loudly hitting the bed so that they lay properly. Both were catching their breath, eyes locked together as their lips met in a soft kiss. After lying a few moments with their lips lightly pressed together but not much else, he pulled out of her and slipped the condom off, wrapping it in some tissue and leaving it on the bedside table.

Bianca tugged the covers over them and leaned against him, still a little silly from the wine and giggling. "I can't help but cling to you sometimes."

"Dryer sheets help with that," he said, though the hint of a chuckle ended the sentence, and he put his arm around her.

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

Go check out Lyraeon's half of the challenge, since this was us writing our own takes on the same basic idea. She deserves more hits than she gets and is an awesome writer.

fanfiction s/8398113/1

...

The door flung open noisily as the two connoisseurs leaned against each other for support on their way into Cilan's bedroom. Neither were able to stand very well in the aftermath of their drinking contest, and constantly bumped into walls or furniture on the way. It was a miracle they had even made it up the stairs without incident.

Cilan grasped Burgundy's chin with more grace than he should have been able to muster and pulled her into a kiss as they leaned against his bureau. "Such an exquisite taste," he said, "A depth of passion and flavour waiting to be sampled."

Less delicately, she grabbed his shoulders as he started to pull away and dragged him right back into a kiss, this one far rougher than his. "Your hunger is overwhelming, seasoned with lust and fury, balanced so perfectly with a side of confusion." She moaned as his arms seized her and she felt pressed against the dresser. "I would like to taste more of you."

Nodding, Cilan kissed her again, pushing her against his bureau and snaking a hand down her dress pants. One of her legs clumsily wrapped around his and she moaned into his mouth. Neither was sure if they were so heavily leaning on his furniture because of passion or because they didn't trust the other or themselves to stand upright, but neither seemed to care very much about anything.

Their breath and mouths both tasted strongly of aged whiskey, undercurrents of various flavours of wine staining it and muddling the fine liquor. So drunk, though, neither cared how confusing the taste was, or found any issue with it, only wanting more, to go deeper.

"It's tasting time," he said hotly into her ear in a tone that made her shiver as his fingers sank down, rubbing against her mound and teasing her entrance with the tip of his middle finger.

Neither expected the challenge to go the way it did, ending with them both trashed and in his bedroom, hands all over each other. Burgundy's insolence had simply been to try and upstage her rival, but as he undid her bow-tie with one hand and began to kiss at her exposed neck, she felt in some way she had won. It was not a great victory, but he no longer saw her as a silly kid below him, as she felt he did. There, feeling her up and tasting her again and again, they were equals.

"Your treatment is ripe," she moaned, leaning her head back so he could get at her neck easier. "Running deep and expertly cooked." Her own hands started to clamour for his pants, though she was clumsier about it, being drunker and less experienced with getting someone else's pants off. "But I must have a taste as well." Cilan moaned into her neck as she fished out his penis, grasping it and saying into his ear lustily, "Bonjour! New tasting time s'il vous plaît!"

She was pressed harder against the bureau as she started to slowly work his shaft, resting it against her thigh as she stroked it. Her arm clumsily kept knocking into his as he fingered her, and she started to scowl at him from just out of his vision. Her head started to wobble a little and her legs weakened a bit more. "You're getting sloppy," she slurred. "It would appear that I came out the winner of that contest."

"Your legs can barely hold your body up, and you smell strongly of alcohol and bad decisions."

"And you're pressing me against furniture, how well do you think you're standing?"

Their ministrations both got faster and harder, their bickering serving to quicken the pace they both moved at. Cilan pulled his face from her shoulder and they locked into a deep stare, reciprocating both the glares and the angry handjobs. Both moved faster as the other did, trying to win out. They began growling and Burgundy tried to lift her upper lip and bare her teeth in a bad decision born of too much alcohol; she didn't look scary or intimidating at all. Neither was willing to give in or concede to the other, though they weren't sure what exactly constituted a loss.

Two fingers plunging in and out of her, thumb working over her clitoris in a way that told her he knew exactly what he was doing, and Burgundy had to fight to keep her scowl on. She had to remember that this was Cilan doing it, and to show no weakness, no pleasure. In keeping her expression, though, everything else betrayed her. The hand that held onto his arm tightly, the breath that grew ragged, the hips that pushed forward slightly to meet every inward motion of his hand. She wasn't aware of any of that though, in her inebriated state, and thought that simply staring a hole through his face would suffice.

Not that he picked up on much of it either. He had grown angrier as well, his charming, fabulous edge dulled in the face of becoming a belligerent drunk. Burgundy was always a mild irritant, and somehow simply giving her a guiding hand slowly gave way to finding a different way to shut her up. He leaned in to kiss her again, less soft and wistful than before. Like her, his body was showing subtle hints of his enjoyment and attraction that he tried to hide, most notably the rocking of his hips, or the way his heart raced.

"Surely," he groaned, "There is a new range of flavours left to explore, and to waste our time with the same ones all night is irresponsible. After all, we are here to experience new tastes, expand our horizons as sommeliers." What he meant, beneath all of the flowery speech, was that he doubted they would ever be this drunk again, and while he had the excuse to, wanted to eat her out.

"Oui oui," she moaned, stopping the handjob, rubbing her thumb against his tip. "So many new tastes that I cannot deprive myself of." Her scowl melted away into a coy smile-at least one she thought was coy. What she said was essentially the same as him.

He tried to drop first, slowly sinking to his knees in front of her, slowly undoing the buttons on her vest for no particular reason. As he got down to her pants and began to pull them down, she sank with him, shaking her head. "I wanted to go first. However am I supposed to learn if I cannot taste with a fresh palette?"

He smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "Experience is the greatest teacher, and you can learn as much from experiencing something as from doing it. Please, allow me to taste you."

In response, she shoved him back so that he fell, leaning uncomfortably against his bed frame. She moved forward, grasping his base and leaning in, purring as she sized him up and was happy with what she saw. "If you are truly the master, would you not rather see the student's best effort first?"

His rebuke was gentler, simply pushing her aside softly, and though she was mostly dead weight, he managed just fine. "I insist, my palette craves a new taste and I simply must have it."

"Mon chéri, you simply do not refuse a woman willing to please." She grabbed him forcefully, bringing him to the floor and straddling his chest, hand reaching back to slowly stroke his penis. "After all, you are a host, no? Should what pleases the women not be your top priority?"

"Certainly an experienced connoisseur pleasuring you would be a sweeter, more savoury experience."

"Is it your place to question a lady?"

"Is it your place to call yourself one?"

Deigning to ignore that remark, she around on him, lying atop him but facing the other way. Her body pressed down hard on him as she leaned in closely to examine his penis more closely. As she did, Cilan grabbed the waist of her pants, digging his fingers in to catch the panties and nearly scratching her sides in the process, and pulled them down. Licking his lips in excitement, he looked at her crotch, raised over him and swaying slightly.

"You are about to see that even a c-rank connaisseuse is nothing to be underestimated!"

"Prepare to feel what a true master connoisseur can do with his mouth!"

"Bonjour! New tasting time s'il vous plaît!"

"It's tasting time!"

The two went on their spiels, so inebriated they weren't even aware the other was talking, and went for it at the same time. Burgundy took a few inches of Cilan into her mouth and he pulled her pussy to his lips and licked down her slit, and it took a few seconds the sensations to register with either of them. Once they did, both shivered a little, but persevered in their individual efforts. If they were both going down on each other, then clearly the only option was to out-do the other.

`Immediately, Burgundy could see how that was a bad idea. She wasn't completely inexperienced, but the instant he started, she immediately had difficulty in so much as focusing. "Merde," she muttered after finishing dragging her tongue up his shaft. This merely meant there was an even greater challenge to overcome, and as she gripped his base and accepted him into her mouth, she knew there was a lot on the line. She could already picture him, bragging about how much better he was, how many times he brought her to orgasm with his mouth while he never came, cackling cruelly to her and leaving her on the bed to find a woman who could properly satisfy him.

Normally-collected Cilan wasn't much better off. The whiskey had all gone to his head and made him just as frustrated as she was. He'd show her once and for all, finally shut her down, and have fun doing it. He could feel her eagerness, both in how she acted and subtly within her taste. She wanted to prove herself, and while she stood little chance of doing so, he knew she would throw everything she could into giving him something nice to remember her by. And then hopefully go away. His fingers parted her folds, opening her up as his tongue caressed her insides lovingly.

She was so inebriated, between the marathon of shots and the wine before, that it was a wonder she was conscious and able to give him a decent blowjob. The fact she could even stay atop him was a miracle, though she wobbled and swayed enough that he hardly had to move at all, merely letting her grind on his tongue. Her face was red, part of it from frustration, part of it from drunkenness, and part of it, she realized, from the fact she had four inches of her rival in her mouth and his head between her legs. Not only was she supposed to hate him, but there was something about it all that felt disturbingly right, made her weak in the knees and press her body harder against him out of something other than laziness or spite.

Cilan came to similar conclusion, horrified at himself as his hips rocked upward gently, not simply out of a desire to get more into her mouth, but a gesture passion with a complex flavour running deeper than the mere skin. It was an act that spoke volumes and satisfied the whole palette, which worried him deeply. The smugness in his face started to ebb a little bit and he found himself earnestly eating her out not simply to prove his point, but because he wanted to hear her muffled moans, feel her hand grab at his thigh a little bit harder. It began to transcend the simply physical and enter a new course, one that spoke to more than the taste buds.

Slowly, Burgundy's technique grew more confident and refined, fed into by slow, encouraging feedback. Whenever she did something he really enjoyed, she found her clitoris under a blissful assault, and knew to do more of that. Her evaluation grew wordier, and though he was so deep in her mouth she didn't even think of trying to speak a single word, they fluttered around her mind wildly and without pause. Savoury. Exquisite. Love. More. Take me. She shut her eyes tightly, rocking back and forth against his body, moaning not in pleasure but in satisfaction of a more emotional sort. The competitive edge ebbed away, and she didn't care so much about beating him or proving she was his equal. She merely wanted to make him feel good.

Something clicked for those two, heads buried in each others' legs and lavishing each other. His fingers plunged into her as he made quick, sucking kisses against her clit. She was careful not to hit herself in the lips with the upper portion of her hand as it and her mouth moved quicker. Pretence slipped away and an eternity of frustrations melted on the floor beneath them, warming them. Or perhaps that was the whiskey. Their drunken tryst had gone from competitive to passionate in a way that spoke to both of them. Things settled so perfectly and both seemed to cool off, and surely the next thing said would be some concession or declaration, end the feud between them.

Burgundy slowly pulled up, kissing his tip. "A shame," she slurred. "I expected you to be more experienced and refined. Your oral technique is like a shallow appetizer that does not speak well of the main course."

The slow build toward something better than arguing snapped in half when she spoke. She knew immediately that something had gone wrong when she found herself rolled to the floor, shouting in surprise. Just as soon as she could figure out where she was, Cilan grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up. She felt her back against the wall, legs kept loosely together by the pants down around her knees. He pressed her harder against it, hands still on her shoulders, spit-soaked penis against her thigh.

She made a low whimpering sound, though she wasn't sure if it was fright or shock or if she wondered how hard the retribution for her words was going to be. Her legs shook, which wasn't out of fear but simply to have free use of her legs again. She spread them a little and drew in a sharp breath, looking him right in the eye, seeing the fire.

"Bonjour! New tasting time s'il vous plaît!"

"It's tasting time!"

Again, they spoke in unison, this time ending on the same second, final syllable stressed a little harder as he plunged into her. She moaned, leaning harder against the wall as his next thrust rattled her. She knew what was coming, knew what she had stirred up, and for some reason that thought excited her. It was in poor judgement that she made that comment and ruined their mutual moment, but seeing the hungry smile he gave her, she knew that she had done the right thing. Had he not been pressed up against her already, that expression would have made her cross her legs and wince with arousal.

It did not take long at all for his thrusts to become quick, rapid, and powerful. There was nothing sensitive or passionate in what he did, and everything was in stark contrast to his normal methods, but he was too drunk and high on the moment to care. One of his hands grabbed her thigh, pulling her leg up so it rested in the crook of his hip, and dug his fingernails into her skin. She tried to suck in a harsh breath but instead she found his lips pressed to hers, tongue forcefully invading her mouth. She could taste herself all over him and the sentiment was mutual, but neither cared much about that. The more pressing matter was when she bit on his tongue and a warm, metallic taste thrilled her mouth. Her eyes shut tightly with excitement. He pressed her harder against the wall and she made little effort to fight back.

"Your inexperience is showing," he snarled, hand grabbing her breast through her shirt and working it roughly. "Should I take your lack of resistance as proof that I am indeed the superior sommelier?"

She snapped right back. "Take it as proof you're slamming a drunk girl against a wall, salop." Wrapping her arms around him, she matched him in the nails department, pressing harder to compensate for the fact he still wore his vest and dress shirt. As his cock slammed into her, filling her so utterly every time and making her inner thoughts moan despite her facade, she pressed even harder.

She did a fairly good job about it, seeing as the moment he began to hiss, he responded by leaning down and biting her shoulder, pushing his whole body against her to slam harder against the wall. He let go of her thigh and breast only for a moment, grumbling as he pulled his bow tie off. He seized her hands, shoved them behind her back, and with a surprising amount of dexterity for a drunk man, tied them up tightly. He smiled, resuming his groping and clawing, and giving her another heavy bite.

"Nique ta mere!" she screamed, and though it was clearly driven by anger, lust dripped from it just as it dripped between her legs. Being hatefucked against the wall, she had to admit, was the single most intense thing she had ever done, sexually.

The heavy thrusts meant that her backside hit the wall repeatedly, thumping loudly on the other side, to where Chili tried to sleep. It didn't take long, especially as they hurled insults at each other, for the redheaded gym leader to take issue with it. He got out of bed, banging on the other wall furiously. "Come on! You got the crazy chick, Cress is downstairs with Burgh causing a health code violation, I didn't score, let me sleep!" He continued the banging, occasionally shouting, "Hey!" in hopes they would listen.

"Shut up!" the two shouted back, and seemingly in spite, the sound of their fucking grew louder. Moans rose amidst the curses and insults and screams of pain. She had never taken Cilan for a biter, but the pain her shoulders told her otherwise. Or maybe he was just drunk. None of this seemed like Cilan at all, so it seemed fair to blame the alcohol. Of course, having been both the catalyst for this one-night-stand and for making him ravage her so furiously, she wasn't mad at alcohol.

Neither could last much longer. They both moaned, thighs soaked, pain all around, heads buzzing from the booze, and the intensity had seized them. Burgundy came first. "Merde!" she screamed, shaking against him as her pussy tightened hard on his penis and her body tingled with bliss. He followed soon after, slamming the hardest yet before burying himself inside her and finishing, spreading warmth through her. He groaned, biting her neck one last time before easing up a little on her.

He rested against her, both bathing in the afterglow, and kissed furiously. Not with anger or hate; neither tried to bite down on the other's tongue again. It was mere passion, a need to be together and hold tightly.

When the dust settled, though, and Cilan found himself still completely rigid, he pulled out of her and flashed another devilish smile. He grabbed her again, this time pushing her down hard over his desk. She groaned, bent over it, hands still tied back, cum leaking down her thigh, and struggling. "I'd certainly hope you were not full yet, that was a very uninteresting first course."

In response, Cilan merely gave her ass a loud, heavy smack. This was going to be the most filling meal of their lives.


	5. Chapter 5

Shauntal burst into her room, carrying her high heels, finding them too unwieldy to walk in with the wine in her. She had that look of inspiration on her face, muttering to herself ideas excitedly, every motion brimming with wonder and glee. Grimsley followed behind with far less enthusiasm, throwing his scarf over his shoulder and remarking, "It's fortunate that it's too late for anybody to be outside, lest they see an elite walking around carrying her own shoes and muttering to herself about hatesex."

The purple-haired elite carried on, tossing them aside and scoping out the hotel room. She'd had little chance to do so when they first arrived, having to rush over to the tasting quickly in light of their late arrival, and she needed to take inventory. "You don't wear socks," she retorted. "If nobody but me seems to notice, I doubt they'll care much about my shoes."

Smirking, Grimsley laid out on the bed, relaxing. "So what was the plan for tonight, because I must say, it has been a rather long time since you last gave me a-"

"Not happening," she said, shutting him down as she fished eagerly through her bag for a pen and notebook. "Blowjobs are for special occasions and writer's block, and tonight, there is so much inspiration. Oh, who do I write first? Juniper and Fennel will be fairly sweet and standard, but I still have that very not standard story about them to write. Cheren and Bianca will be having awkward, adorable sex, and our boy'll finally be a man and top for a change. And then there's Cilan and Burgundy. Ah, hatesex!"

She rolled onto the bed beside him, cuddling up against him and sighing. She was, admittedly, a touch tipsy, but it merely enhanced her muse and they had been in that boat a thousand times before. Aside from being more prone to rambling off into her prose world mid-sentence, she'd be mostly fine.

"Why do you get so excited by hatesex?" he grumbled, slipping an arm beneath her and pulling her closing. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Not you, no. I can't get mad enough at you for to do what the connoisseurs are doing right now." She leaned in for a kiss. "You're too suave for me to stay mad at. I like the level of rough we get sometimes just fine."

He smiled, pulling her back in for another kiss. "I still refuse to believe they're actually doing what you say they will. They might just fall asleep on each other and wake up shouting."

She shook her head. "You could almost feel the electricity between them. They want each other, and they've hidden it under a veneer of hatred and rivalry. Alcohol breaks those down rather nicely. People don't shout at each about how much they other and then swap whiskey in a kiss unless they want to fuck like animals on a desk."

"I sure hope that one day, your reality comes out in theatres, darling. I would love to see it."

"Are my stories not enough?" she teased, head leaning down as she looked up at him from beneath her round glasses. "Are you actually claiming to be bored of me?" Reaching one leg over him, she climbed into his lap, mouth pressed to his ear. She whispered, "Does moaning every word I write as you ravage me no longer thrill you? Does spinning a tale as you thrust into me not make your heart flutter like it used to?"

"You're teasing me," he said with steady tone, clasping her hand and slowly dragging the purple glove off of it.

She smiled, pressing her thigh against his crotch region and rubbing slowly. "And from what I feel, it's working."

"Even a man of deep moral fibre such as myself cannot resist the wiles of a wicked woman."

"Which fibre is it that involves handcuffing me to the bed and asking me to meow like a kitty for you?"

He growled, shutting her up with another kiss. "Don't complain too much about things that you ask me for."

She smiled coyly and leaned in for a peck. "We can play this all night, but it's not getting anything written or getting us off." She rolled off of him as he got off the bed, letting her wriggle over to the centre of the wide bed. She got onto her stomach, pushing a pillow out of the way and laying the notebook down on the bed, open to the first page. She got her knees underneath her and pushed up with them, raising her entire lower body for her boyfriend.

The dark-type trainer, meanwhile, got back on the bed behind her, pulling up her skirt and taking a moment simply to massage her thighs and feel her out. The fabric of her pantyhose felt odd to the touch as he kneaded the skin, but he was used to it by now. Slowly her made his way inward with his hands until finally he rubbed her slit through her panties. The gentle motion her back made told him he was right on the mark. "Is this a pair you intend to keep?" he asked smoothly, pressing down forcefully against her opening.

"Yes," she said, maintaining her composure as she started to write. "It's the one I wear to parties for a reason, please don't tear it."

"Even though you knew exactly what we were doing tonight..."

"On the chance I was going to get drunker than I was, it wasn't something I'd want an accident to expose."

"As if several of them don't already know." He grabbed the bands of her undergarments and started to slide them slowly down her body. After getting them down to her knees and noting that she was rather wet for what little they had done, he decided to tease her a little. He began the massage again, this time starting at her calves. He enjoyed teasing her like, that especially on nights when she was more sarcastic than usual. Getting her all hot and ready, then stalling for as long possible while still touching her, was a delicious way to make her squirm.

Shauntal tried to ignore him, pretending he wasn't being a teasing prick at that moment, and set out to write. She muttered to herself as the pen scratched along the paper noisily, producing an endless flow of garbled 'words' that nobody could decode but her. Her penmanship had taken a nosedive when she met Grimsley. Originally it was very clear and legible, which was how he ended up finding her secret. Since then, so much of her writing was done frantically with him inside of her or touching her that she couldn't write legibly at all. The upside was that his touch sent her productivity through the roof, but there were many mornings after where she struggled to decode what she had written the night before in the process of typing it up on her laptop. She had tried using her laptop more right off the bet, but it was still packed away in her bag and she was too excited and horny to fish it out and spend the time starting it up.

Slowly his hands worked up her thighs, and the subtlest of changes in her breath told him that she wouldn't complain because his massage felt too damn good to ask for it to stop. Not as good as sex, but pleasant enough to make it proper teasing. Eventually he reached the crease in her thigh, rubbing the midpoint between thigh and vulva. She grew even more restless, anticipation killing her as he drew nearer to properly pleasuring her, which was just something he couldn't do. Instead of drawing closer and doing what she expected, he dragged his hands up and began to massage her ass.

Growling a very unladylike curse, Shauntal resigned herself to being at his asshole whims, as per usual, and continued writing. She was thankful for how much plot ended up preceding the sex, allowing her not to delve right into the territory that would make his teasing any worse. The strong hands kneading her ass, using his intimate knowledge of every inch of her body to make her twist the ways he wanted, were chipping away at her, and writing about two people having incredible, rough sex would have only made her unbearably horny. "'As opposed to only manageably horny,' she mused bitterly to herself, lamenting how his teasing was giving her ideas and zeroing in her desires for the night."

Grimsley chuckled to himself, deep and rich, as he watched the tipsy author slip into narrating her own life without even realizing it. It told him what he needed to know and made everything so much sweeter. "So then, anal tonight, darling?"

Again she swore, realizing her habits betrayed her, as usual. There was no use in fighting it any further, so she sighed and nodded. "But I'm actually writing, so let's avoid a repeat of last time. I won't be able to use my owns hands tonight."

With a roll of the eyes he slipped his hands down, ignoring her remark as he finally gave her what she craved. One hand braced her hip as his fingers ran down her wet folds, sending a shiver through her spine that made her hand twitch off to the side and spoil the word she was writing with a large ink line right through it. She started the word again, gritting her teeth and tensing up her elbow to help keep it steady. It was always a shock the first time he properly touched her, but it usually wasn't so pronounced. Must have been the wine.

Her body stretched out a little bit as he rubbed her all over, again knowing exactly what she liked best and using his knowledge to excellent effect. There was never a lazy effort from him; he always gave her his all and made her feel exquisite. That was part of why she liked him; his pride dictated that he could never leave a woman half-satisfied. Unless, of course, it was all part of the game, and she was bound and blindfolded, on the edge and begging for it. That was a special circumstance. On a normal night without the cat ears, there was no excuse for a weak showing.

As two fingers slipped into her, the scratching against the paper grew more frantic. The story spread out before her, timing on her side as she detailed Cilan bending Burgundy over his bed and fingerfucking her. Even it it felt nothing like what Grimsley did to her, devoid of the anger and neck biting and hair pulling, it enhanced the scene to be experiencing something similar. She could appreciate it more, make everything seem more real. Burgundy clawed drunkenly at the bed in the story just as Shauntal would have in real life had she not had a duty to uphold.

Unfortunately, Grimsley already had anal on the mind and would not let it go. His eyes watched her bottom sway, and had ideas forming that just had to be indulged. His free hand dragged up her soft, pale ass, giving it a squeeze before he brought a finger to his lips. He almost put it in his mouth, before a better idea struck him. He leaned over his lover, which had the added effect of pressing his erection up against her side through his pants. He brought the finger to her lips instead, whispering hotly into his ear. "If you'd please."

"It's good to see you still have that strong moral fibre intact," she noted with a roll of her eyes.

"A less upstanding man would take no precautions." He pressed against her a little harder, and even through his clothes and against her hip, the feeling of his hardness made her tremble a little. Her lips parted slightly to let out a moan and the finger slipped through. She grumbled a little, but ultimately relented. She adjusted her glasses and tried to ignore the hand in the bottom of her peripheral vision as she sucked on his finger and continued writing. There would be time when she was sober to contemplate all of the ways her life had gone off the rails that she was in a hotel room bed, writing about a friend having hatesex with his rival while she sucked on her boyfriend's finger, but it was not then. It was healthier to work things out after the fact than philosophize during sex; what she had dubbed "Cherening". For that moment she would enjoy the feeling of his hot breath on her ear and the subtle ways he showed his desire and hunger in how he pressed his body against hers. She would enjoy that the finger sucking wasn't needless, and that she would have a far easier time if she obliged him.

"You're hardly making me want that blowjob any less, dear," he said harshly into her ear, beginning to pump the finger between her lips. He chuckled at the little addition, pleased with himself for the joke he'd made. After the wisp of amusement died down he slipped a second in there. It was an odd place he was in, fingerfucking her at both ends, but there was something about it that did not do the fact his cock was sill in his pants any favours.

Out of some kind of spite, she started sucking them loudly, sure to throw in plenty of tongue just to make him lament the fact he wasn't getting oral a little bit more. The immediate response of his bulge aching against her side brought a smile to her as focus on the story waned. She hoped that it wasn't the beginning of another one of those nights, where she got nothing done because the sex got far too intense for her to be any sort of productive. As enjoyable as they were, she always woke up the next morning feeling as though she could have done more. Especially hot off the heels of three new ideas, there was no time to waste.

Finally satisfied with how wet they had gotten, he pulled the fingers out of her mouth and pulled off of her. He returned to his position behind her, placing his palm on the cheek as he sank his spit-soaked ring finger slowly into her. She tensed at the feeling, head leaning back a little as the slow invasion stood in stark contrast to the rapid motion of his fingers inside her pussy. Her focus started to return a little to the story, though not as much as she liked. Her muse was actively working against her, and even without looking back she knew Grimsley had a wide, self-satisfied smirk as he watched her dance on his fingers. She hated that he was so good just as much as she loved it. The nights when he showed no interest in her story of the night he always made a game out of fucking her just that little bit harder or doing that extra little thing that could make her mind cloud over with lust, obscuring words and replacing her thoughts with need.

One of his nastiest tricks followed. He pulled the fingers out of her vagina and began to work his pants off. He'd had more experience than anyone ever should with undressed one-handedly, and before long he had his penis out and beginning to tease her. Holding it steady, he rocked his hips back and forth, running his head along her slit with enough force to make her knees falter a bit. He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes shutting tightly and the hand on her ass holding it just a little bit tighter.

It was her turn to laugh, though hers was a much richer and joyful laugh. Seemingly without realizing she was doing it all, she lapsed again into prose, still intently writing. "His taunts had backfired though, and as he pressed himself flush against her entrance with the intent of making her writhe and beg, he discovered that his own need had been just as deep and the aching increased. Though too smug to admit it, he knew that we was now just as deep into the hole as she was, and he had to do everything in his power to keep from simply going deep into another hole."

"That was awful," he remarked, pressing his tip hard against her clit and grinding it slowly. "And if sucking my finger hadn't left me so turned on that last bit would have killed the mood entirely." He withdrew from her ass, only to sink both fingers into her. Again he elicited a reaction that made him smirk and lessen the frustration of knowing how right she was. His petty revenge of emphatically not fucking her was backfiring spectacularly, needing to fight the urge not to give in. Every motion against her velvety folds made his resolve falter a little and he wondered, watching her write even as she began to buck back against his hand, if in reality he was the one worse off for his teasing.

Slowly, Shauntal overcame what he was doing and redoubled her focus. The wine went a long way in helping with that; it dulled her senses and kept her from multitasking, allowed her to set everything onto one specific aim. Even as her body worked its own agenda and moved in complement to his efforts to get her off, her mind simply unfurled its tale. It was a sweet disconnect, seemingly one level below full-on astral projection, as her mind and body split off to accomplish their own tasks with the sort of efficiency only her secondary muse could provide. Of course, as the fingers inside of her ass parted and began to stretch her out in preparation, her disparate halves did begin to reunite again. She could only hold out so much, and scissoring motion of his wet fingers easily broke down her crude mental defences.

Again, he hunched over her, buried to the knuckles inside of her ass, his shaft flush against her pussy and slowly grinding. "Now," he purred into her ear and she almost melted into a puddle of lust beneath him. Her head arched up and pressed against his shoulder, a moan clawing its way out as her whole body surged with excitement.

"You do this every time," she moaned. "And always when Cilan is involved. Why does Cilan make you want anal so much, Grimsley?"

He pulled away from her quickly at that remark, and she managed to roll over into a healthy gut laugh at his expression. Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward and gave her ass a playful smack for that awful comment. "Again, you are rather lucky I want you so badly right now, as you seem determined to spoil your chances of actually getting laid tonight."

It took a few seconds after he finished speaking for her laughter to die down. She slipped off her pantyhose and panties, leaving her completely bottomless, only scarcely covered by her dress. "The chair. Last time we did this with a Cilan story I was on all fours, but I want something different this time. Sit at the desk." She went over to the bag she packed and began searching for something.

He obliged, sitting into the chair in front of the desk that the hotel room had, turning it so he faced her and parting his legs. "You know, the easiest way to get me nice and slick for-"

"No blowjobs," she repeated, fishing a bottle of lubricant out of the bag and tossing it to him. "Here, use this and quit complaining."

As she continued searching, he watched with a grin. She bent from the waist, which meant her ass was on display for him barely hidden by her dress as it rode up her skin, making the process of getting his cock slick with the lube even sweeter. He stroked himself to the sight of her, going all the way from base to tip with every motion to make sure he was ready for her. The last thing anybody needed was for the sex to come to a grinding halt once it finally got going. Simply grinding would be fine.

He groaned at himself for making the sort of comment Shauntal would have ended a paragraph with and he would have rolled his eyes at. She was rubbing off on him a little too much, it seemed.

Finally she walked over to him, notebook closed with the pen slipped into the loop and the cap holding it there. The other hand held a vibrator; nothing fancy or elegant, just a simple toy that she handed off to him. "Here, use this. I've had your fingers all night and we haven't brought this out in a while."

He accepted graciously as she laid the notebook down on the desk and slowly settled into his lap. His girth meant that even though he had loosened her up nicely with his fingers she still wasn't quite ready for him. As they turned and she opened the book she started to slip down his shaft, handful of thrusts to get all the way down. By the time she had, her body had leaned forward and her lower lip trembled a little as she opened the book. "F-fuck," she spat out, madly turned on by the feeling of him in her ass. The vibrator was still not even touching her or turned on yet and she already felt like it was going to be a challenge to hold on. She flipped open the pages loudly, having to restrain herself from tearing them in how quickly she went for the right page. She was amazed how much she had written already, even if most of it was nigh-impenetrable chicken scratch.

The low buzz of the toy started as Grimsley pressed it against the crease of her thigh, knowing it to be the perfect teasing spot for her. Indeed, the way her back arched up again and her body pressed tight to his told him all he needed to. His other hand rested on the opposite thigh as he began to guide her in her motions atop him. Her ass was hot and tight and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why this was such a rare thing for them. As much as he enjoyed everything else they did, all he had to do was sit there and rub something battery-operated against her. She did the rest of the work and did a damn hot job doing it.

The story unfolded before her eyes, the sensation of the toy now flush against her dripping opening and of him buried deep in her ass driving her. In the story, Cilan had Burgundy up against the wall, hands on her wrists and pinning them to the wall as he ravaged her. Their kisses were angry and violent, always interrupted with strings of insults and demeaning comments about each others' performance.

"_The only sign that either of them were invested fully in what happened and revelling in the moment was that their hearts raced, pumping in perfect synchronization against each other. 'Go faster, amateur' meant 'I love you' and every claw mark down his back was, for all intents and purposes, a lipstick mark on his cheek. Beneath all of the pretence were very obvious emotions they denied not because they were uncertain, but because the intensity of their motions was so much better than smooth 'lovemaking' would be._"

"Faster," he whispered into her ear. His hand was off her thigh and pushing aside the collar of her dress, bringing it down to expose her shoulder as he ran his lips along it. She went at her own pace, though the plunging toy he pumped in and out of her dictated her own motions perfectly. Each bounce in his lap made small sounds fall loosely from her lips, and occasional grunts muffled by her neck told her that he was in the same boat.

"_Each heavy thrust rocked Burgundy's body, and she couldn't imagine sex any rougher or more violent that didn't involve other items. Between a man, a woman, and a wall, this was as far as it could go. Even still, one of the hands on her wrist reached up a little and his fingers crossed with hers, clasping her hand soothingly, in a way that flew in the face of everything they were doing._"

Shauntal groaned not in arousal or pleasure, but in frustration. They were going too soft. Grimsley was caressing her neck with his lips and lovingly plunging the dildo into her; everything was just too normal, too sweet, and it was rubbing off on the story. She scratched out the last sentence furiously and moaned, "Bite me."

That made Grimsley's brow raise in surprise. It wasn't necessarily an unheard request, but not when they were having 'normal' sex. "Darling, I know you've had a lot to drink, but I assure you, I am not a vampire."

She scoffed. "This scene is getting too soft, and I blame the fact there's too much love in here. Bite me, make me mad, so this can keep going."

Rolling his eyes at another strange whim her creative side came up with, he saw no reason not to oblige her. His lips returned to her neck, but this time his mouth opened wide and Grimsley's teeth-which were prominent enough to not help the vampire comparisons-dug hard into her flesh. He squeezed her thigh hard and shoved the toy into her forcefully. He wasn't in a mood for anything too out-there that night, but if she needed rough to get the Cilan story out faster, then he could at least meet her halfway.

The net gain of that was a frantic moan from Shauntal, her body leaning forward again, dragging him with her. Hunched over the desk with a dick up her ass, a toy in her soaked pussy and his teeth digging into her neck enough that if his next bite was any harder he was sure to break the skin, she wrote like mad. Her lips frantically moved as she scarcely more than scribbled onto the paper, thinking that if nothing else she would remember it perfectly and type it up the next night. The story took a back seat as the chemical rush responding to the pain kicked in and mingled with the intensity of their sex into something beautiful.

Gripping the pen hard, she felt her orgasm coming quickly, biting down on her lower lip and shutting her eyes as she started to bounce in his lap as quickly as he could. Every motion pushed his cock back into her ass and her body tightened a little bit more. She came first, due to all the teasing, and she came hard. She leaned forward, slamming her hands on the table, and with no pillow beneath her to bite down on, screamed out in loving joy, not caring they were in a hotel and whomever was next door was likely sleeping. Her body twisted against him and she didn't even care that her glasses fell off and landed on the book.

Unfortunately, Grimsley's release was not nearly as theatrical as hers. Granted, he groaned loudly into her ear as her ass tightened around him and she soaked his hand with her juices, but he mostly kept his composure as she grabbed her tightly, holding her close to him as he filled her ass, shuddering against her body. He let out a satisfied murmur and slowly the moment dissolved and reality faded back into view for both of them. He pushed on the switch with the toy, and though it remained inside her it stopped buzzing.

The bite marks on her neck were prominent and deep, several points where a little bit of blood began to trickle. He wiped them off with his collar, reasoning it was already the colour of blood and wouldn't show if he couldn't get the stains out, and pressed his lips to them. He started kissing them better, slowly and with the sort of patient caring he didn't usually show her until after he had seen release. It always mellowed him out, and he could merely sit there and enjoy the fact they were both bottomless in a chair and panting heavily.

"I guess that's all for tonight," she shrugged, closing the book slowly. "I expected to go for longer but you... You're quite the devil, aren't you?"

He chuckled, turning her head gently so she faced him and met him with a soft, slow kiss. "The devil wishes he were half the charmer I am."


	6. Chapter 6

"Here comes another one!" Bianca made an unpleasant sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan, following it up with some retching before her body again pitched forward. Splashing into the toilet bowl with a sickening splatter was a rush of grey-brown liquid filled with chunks of hors d'ouerves. She gripped the white porcelain rim uneasily, hands shaking as a pained moan followed. After a few heavy breaths, the rim of a cup pressed to her lips and she accepted some mouthwash.

As she swished it around to try and spare her teeth and taste buds, Cheren held her hair loosely behind her head, and after putting the cup down he pat her back softly. "There can't be much more than that," he offered as some vague solace. "And then we'll go get something for you to drink a lot of, and you'll be okay." It was more than a little upsetting, to wake up from really great sex only to find Bianca vomiting over the side of the bed. It wasn't quite what he hoped to see.

"I'm sorry," she groaned, tilting her head to look at him, a little blurry with the absence of her glasses. "I was hoping we could have pancakes in bed this morning, not spend it in the bathroom."

A small smile broke across Cheren's lips at the thought of that; he always adored her little plans, which were sure to tug at his heart. More than cute enough to be impervious to his sarcasm. "It's okay; we can still do it tomorrow morning."

"But tomorrow morning I wanted to have omelets..." The response prompted Cheren to stop rubbing her back and wrap the arm around her to hold her close. Her tense, quivering body eased a little with the sudden closeness he provided. "It's not okay, though. I always do this sort of thing. Mess it all up and then you have to come clean it up. Just like we were kids, I haven't changed at all."

"Yes you have," he said softly, leaning his head onto her shoulder. It wasn't something Cheren was well-versed in dealing with; Bianca being bad. She was always a smile and a ray of light, from when they were kids onward. The one constant he knew was that Bianca was happy, and to see her not was something he was never prepared to handle or deal with. "You just made a mistake."

"I always make mistakes, that's the problem. I just want to be like you or Professor Juniper; so smart, always knowing what to do and helping guide everyone else. You know everything and I'm just some silly girl who always 'makes mistakes'." Her voice was clearly strained and uneasy, and Cheren noted that not all of it was from the vomiting and hangover. She seemed legitimately upset by what she was saying. "Maybe I'm not too cut out for this."

Shaking his head quickly, Cheren let his arm go loose around her and he shifted a little so he stood beside the bowl, his grasp still firm on her hair in case she threw up again. "How do you think we got so smart? Mistakes are how we learn. You never drank before, you went too far the one time you did and your body couldn't handle it, so you're not going make the mistake again. That's learning. That's becoming smart." He gave her forehead a kiss and rested his against hers. "You're a loving, smart girl who's come so far in the past few years. You've learned so much and you've done it with a level head, not acting like you know more than you do or being smug about how much you know. And so far you've been a good assistant; one day you'll be a great professor yourself."

"Do you really think so?" she asked, giving him an uneasy smile and closing her eyes.

"I believe in you. So do Juniper and Fennel. Even your dad's come around. When White and Black come back from wherever they ran off to, they're going to be so proud of what you did. Don't worry about it; you'll do great."

Bianca's mouth opened to reply with some sappy little comment about how he was going soft and stealing all of her adorable, but instead she retched. Her eyes opened wide and she saw Cheren pull his head from hers just in time to dodge another rush of vomit, this one almost completely devoid of chunks.

From behind the almost-closed door, Juniper and Fennel peered in, having gone to check up on Bianca and then ended up listening in on their conversation. "Juni, do you remember when you asked if we should adopt?" Fennel asked, sighing softly as she pulled away from the door.

Juniper gave her a wary glance and nodded. "What about it?"

"I kind of feel like we already have kids, in a way."

...

Shauntal woke shortly after dawn, gasping as her upper body lifted off the bed and her breath raced. The slight chill in through the open window made her feel cold; she had been sweating profusely during the night, which wasn't normal for her. She looked around frantically, and though everything was out of focus and badly lit without her glasses or a proper light source, she could tell where she was, that everything was right where it should have been.

Her startled sound stirred Grimsley, who touched her shoulder softly and pulled her back to lie beside him to the bed as she choked down a sob. She did, leaning into him as her eyes shut tightly and she reached blindly for his hand. Eventually she found it, holding a little too tight to it, though his fingers clasped hers with similar strength.

"A nightmare?" he asked, his voice devoid of the typical smug mockery or airs of importance. His other arm reached beneath her neck, letting her rest on it and pulling her closer to him as she started to cry.

Bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, she shook it. "Worse. It was the most horrible thing I'd ever seen."

"What could possibly be so bad that it could make you cry, but bug boy hitting on Cilan didn't?"

"We were in a high school alternate universe, and this was all a story."

Under any other circumstances, he would have laughed at her richly and deeply for such a ridiculous thing. Seeing her cry though, and feeling the warm, wet droplets fall onto his bared shoulder, were elements that told him steadfastly that it was not a joke, and he held her tighter. A little kiss pressed to her forehead and he whispered something she couldn't understand.

"I was in high school again, but you were there with me; pretty much everyone was. I was lonely and always had my head in a book; just like back in school. I never really did have a lot of friends, and certainly not consistent ones I could spend lunch time with. But there you were, so suave and forbidden. In the dream, I couldn't approach you, but had the absolute worst high school crush imaginable on you." She stopped to cry a little more.

More low words that had no meaning to her but felt encouraging followed, so when she was able to reign herself in, she continued.

"Everything we've done still happened, but it was all a story. A story I wrote to give myself this glamorous life with the man I loved, successful in both writing and Pokemon battling, plenty of friends... I'd never spoke to you, and yet I carried a notebook full of stories of us lying together or having dinner, training our Pokemon, and of course, having sex. The party tonight didn't happen; it was me writing a story to pretend I had friends and people wanted to see me."

His hand gently reached up, caressing her face as the arm around her body pulled a bit tighter. He wasn't sure why he did it, but somehow it noticeably calmed her down to be just a little bit closer to him, to have that anchor to reality reminding her that it wasn't real. "It's okay," he whispered softly, in the process losing much of the deep smoothness to his accented voice. "What we have is better than any of your stories."

Nodding slowly, Shauntal buried her head in his shoulder. "It is. I wouldn't write it any differently between us."

The corners of his mouth lifted a little, and she expected some remark to follow, about how she could always write a feline ghost Pokemon into existence so she could actually be the lonely cat lady she was born to be. Instead, he merely leaned down, kissing her on the forehead. "If reality was the best your dreams could come up with to make you long for, then you probably have it pretty good. Now come, let's go back to sleep and find out if any of your predictions actually came true."

...

Cilan's bed was large, as he was prone to restless sleep as a teen. Almost none of it saw use, that morning, as he and Burgundy lay on opposite edges of it, staring wide-eyed off into space. Both were groggy and hung over, but neither wanted to get up, lest they have to acknowledge what they just did.

It was Cilan who said the first word after ten minutes stretched out over eternity. "Did we really..."

"We did. Mautadit."

"Can we never speak of this again?"

She turned around, shooting him a foul look. "What are you implying?" she snapped. "That I was so bad you never want to think of me again? Tu es un cochon ingrat!"

Cilan shook his head, looking at her with clear worry and annoyance. Her angry side was, in such close proximity and with a hangover, unappreciated. "Quite the contrary. I can scarcely remember the last time I had a meal so intensely satisfying. Few provide more than a snack, and what we enjoyed was several courses and ultimately very filling." His lips curled into a smile a little, and he found that his hands tightened a little on the blanket he lay under as he reminisced about what he could piece together of the night before. "However, I'm sure I don't have to explain why this is more than a little uncomfortable."

"You don't," she said, her aggressiveness waning a little bit as he complimented her, not that she wanted to hear it from him. "I'm going. Don't look at me while I go. Let's just never speak again."

"You'll never have to see me after today."

"Good."

"Good."

"How about Thursday?"

"Thursday's fine. Meet here?"

"After closing."

"Done."


End file.
